Blake, Yellow, and Fluff All Over
by Njoror
Summary: A series of AU one-shots between Blake and Yang, ranging from smut to fluff and back again.
1. Iron

**A/N**

**I got this idea while re-reading The Crystal Shard by R. , most notably the first scene where Wulfgar's name is given while he stands in the forge. Instantly, my mind switched to illicit thought of any character who could fit that description. Yang Xiao Long seemed like a good fit.**

**This one contains graphic descriptions. Not that you care.**

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><p>Working for the army was a bother, but Blake needed some sort of job. Well, a respectable one that was. Being a-quite literal-cat burglar could only go so far. Being a courier for the army may not pay well, and may be dull, but at least she put her nimbleness to good use, and she could explain why she wasn't homeless.<p>

Still, checking on a smith seemed a bit farfetched. What the did army need this _exact_ smith for anyway? She had heard one of the soldier muttering about the man, a one "Yang Xiao Long" as if she was the scion of the night, a reverence normally reserved for his general.

And even worse, this city was a good three days out of her way. Three days of no ill-gotten loot. And of course, the legendary blacksmith had to be some reclusive fucker, who lived another day's walk outside of town. Seriously…

Still, there was no point in taking her anger out on the innkeeper. She thanked him, and inquired about lodging for the night. It was five silver, which was about two-thirds the going rate in the capital. A good deal. So she took it.

The room wasn't terrible, though the bed was scratchy. At least the water for her bath was hot, rather than the lukewarm gook she had had to use the night before. The food was surprisingly good, one of the reasons Blake wasn't totally opposed to visiting little hamlets in the middle of nowhere.

The next day, Blake set off with a song in her heart… Had this been a storybook. In actuality, she felt fine. Not great, not terrible, not even irked. Just slightly bored.

The road was well made, though only dirt. It was obvious that people traveled the course of this road at least often enough to make sure weeds didn't take over. Chill wind brushed over the ears atop her head, forcing Blake to flatten them.

They had not been lying when they told her she would need to devote an entire day to the trip. The sun was high in the sky, its rays beating down incessantly, like blows from a hammer. Blake's military uniform, despite her alterations to the length of the skirt and the number of buttons for the jacket, did little to relieve her from the heat.

Finally, a column of smoke came into sight, the sign of life a welcome one in Blake's heat-overdosed brain. She trudged her way along the dirt path, wind from the forest intermingling with the calls of the birds to wash over a courier who wasn't listening.

Even from a good ten yards away from the hut, Blake could hear the sounds of metal being hammered, and a bellows being used. That was a good sign she was in the right place.

Walking up to the door, Blake knocked loudly, using the back of her hand. The sounds from inside didn't stop, so she experimentally pushed on the door. It opened.

Deciding that since no one was stopping her, she may as well walk in. There was nothing that stood out about the place, it was utilitarian to an alarming degree. The walls had not even been painted or covered, the pine looking the same as it had right out of the sawmill.

Walking towards the sounds of the bangs, Blake spied no other signs of inhabitance. Had she not seen smoke and heard sound, she would have assumed the place to be abandoned. The man who lived here must be Blandy Blandson, from the Boring Clan.

Rounding one final corner, Blake opened her mouth to voice her arrival.

And immediately closed her mouth again. Standing in the center of the room, slightly angled away from Blake, was the blacksmith. She most definitely wasn't a man.

Long, tanned legs stretched up to infinity, that infinity being an incredibly rounded and tight-looking ass, barely covered by some short shorts. Powerful abs flexed until they hit the bandages that served as the only other clothing for the woman. An impressive rack sat atop that chest.

Her entire body glistened in sweat, the droplets taking in and reflecting the light from the forge. The smith's body shuddered with each blow on the piece of metal in her gloved hands, flexing and relaxing her muscles in a way that filled Blake's mind with images of the smith without her little clothing on.

The smith continued her work, oblivious to Blake's searching eyes. Every second brought a new wave of sensation crashing over Blake: the heat from the forge; the whallops of the hammer; the clang of the metal on the anvil; the scent of charcoal and sweat and lavenders; the quite frankly gorgeous sight of the smith.

Blake's mouth was completely dry, something she hastily attributed to the heat in the room. Though not all that heat came from the forge, as Blake found a very internal heat coming from her loins and suffusing her body.

In her preoccupation, Blake failed to notice the ringing from the hammer, metal, and anvil stop sounding. It was only when a decidedly feminine voice, low and husky and gorgeous, sounded out, that Blake realized the smith had noticed her presence.

"Enjoying the view?"

Yes, yes she was. But Blake didn't exactly have enough air in her lungs to be able to tell the smith that. The smith still hadn't turned her body to face Blake, letting the light catch every-single-curve. Blake tried to moisten her lips and look away, but found her gaze rooted to the spot by a brain that was telling her that this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

"Come here," commanded the woman in the center of the room, one hand pushing long blonde hair that shimmered gold in the light of the forge behind her shoulder. She had fully turned to face Blake, allowing the thief to see the extent of her well-endowed chest.

Her voice brokers no argument, and Blake found her feet moving to obey without any conscious thought. Discipline appealed the her last vestiges of control, freezing her feet in place and bidding her to speak. Perhaps, if she explained her situation, the blonde's enticing effect would be lessened.

"I am here on behalf of the army," Blake said formally, raising her hand in a weak salute. "I was sent to…" Blake's voice trailed off as Yang… stalked, was the only word she could think of, towards her.

"What are you…" Blake gulped when she saw the sweat glistening on the smith's breasts, their tops not covered by her chest wrappings.

The smith seemed to scrutinize her, like an appraiser preparing for a purchase. She leaned it, letting Blake see right down her chest. Blake thought she would collapse, her legs wobbling like gel.

"Who is your commander?" The smith's voice was a charged husk, like liquid sex. It assaulted Blake's senses. this close, she could smell the musk of the blonde's body, in addition to the charcoal and steel. Sweat with a hint of lavender.

"Ugghh…" Blake didn't really want to talk right now. There were so many better uses of her time with a fit, young, beautiful, and willing woman in front of her. But she had been asked, and she did not wish to disappoint. "A Major Qrow, ma'am." Seizing the moment, she continued, "Are you Yang Xiao Long."

"One and the same," Yang whispered, her teeth tugging gently at Blake's ear as the temptress moved away. "All right," she said, her voice never losing that enigmatic quality, "I'll do whatever job they have for me, seeing as they bribed me so nicely."

"Then if you'll excuse me," Blake said weakly, attempted to back away. Before she had even moved two steps however, the commanding voice returned, rooting her in place.

"Who told you you could leave?" Yang was walking towards her with some bits of metal in hand, looking like she had a purpose. The way she watched Blake, as if undressing her with her eyes, made the thief's body flush with heat and anticipation, though her mind secretly wished she was in a more proper state of attire.

"I need to enjoy my bribe before I accept." That was all Blake heard before her arms were grasped roughly by the smith, and forced over her head. Before Blake had any time to react, a chain bound her wrists together and a nail spiked it into place, pinning both her arms to the wall behind her.

Blake stared, wide-eyed, at the blonde, who was putting down the hammer she had pounded the nail in with. While Blake was physically unharmed, that seemed like it might change at any moment.

The smith returned to her, unspeaking. Blake couldn't have spoken even if she had wanted to, as her mouth felt like a desert and her tongue was currently tied in knots. With one hand, Yang grasped the top of Blake's jacket, where it was buttoned.

A smile lit up her face as she tore that hand down, ripping off every button that was still done up and causing the courier to gasp in spite of herself.

"I'm going to ravage you," Yang told her, no doubt sounding in her voice. It sent waves of heat through her body to hear it directed at her.

"Wait, Miss Xiao Lo-ahh!" her insecure protest was cut off by a loud slap. When had a riding crop gotten into her hand? Suddenly, the smith's wrappings looked a lot less like bandages and a lot more like leather.

Blake couldn't resist a moan escaping her mouth. It had been too long since her last girlfriend that had really done her right. Pushed into a wall, getting it raw, being dominated… She couldn't resist. Already her feminine parts were begging for Yang, though her mouth-still attached to her brain-refused to comply with them.

It wouldn't be long until they got what they wanted.

"You will call me 'Mistress'," Yang informed her, before sealing their lips in a brutal kiss. A tongue demanded entrance to Blake's mouth, entrance she gladly gave it. The blonde's lips were soft, tasting of honey and lavender. It made Blake's head swim.

All too soon, or much too late, she was brought back to reality by the tearing of clothes. Her skirt was no longer a single piece of cloth as it fell away from her legs and on to the dirt floor. The thief's wide eyes found the smith smiling at her state of undress.

Blake's shirt hung open, exposing her chest to the air, and more importantly, Yang's racking gaze. Now that her skirt was gone, all Blake had was here little white panties, and Yang's eyes told her they would not be long for this world.

Nonetheless, the dominating blonde paused with her abuse, setting down the riding crop.

"Miss Xai-Mistress!" Blake corrected herself mid-sentence, before the blonde could punish her again. "What are you-hhhng!"

The smith's mouth found Blake's breast, and it set to work in a strangely gentle manner. She suckled around Blake's nipple in a way that made Blake stick out her chest, desperate for more, yet receive none of the mind-blowing pleasure the thief was sure she could have gotten.

Her hips bucked as a calloused hand made its way up her thighs. It stopped at the crany where her leg and hip met, massaging the joint. Blake groaned in frustration. She was being teased by an expert, and there was only one way to get someone like Yang to fully satisfy her…

"Please, mistress," she begged, thrusting her hips and whimpering pitifully, exactly how she pictured the blonde would like it. Yang gave no signs of hearing her other than a swift nibble on an areola, making Blake jerk against the wall her hands were bound to.

With a popping sound, Yang let the breast out of her mouth, though she did not move her head, only her eyes. "I should have figured you'd have done this before," she whispered, her voice even more sultry, if such a thing were possible. "But that's not going to work on me, kitty. I'm going to make you _scream_."

The way she said it drew a moan from Blake's mouth, her knees growing weak. Now the only thing keeping her up were her arms, still nailed to the wall by the chains.

Yang let her hands roam now, though none of them touched Blake were she needed it most. They left trails of fire in their wake, igniting a passion in the thief's body. Yang's mouth found hers again, drinking in the moans and whimpers Blake made.

Suddenly, the hands reached for her breasts, grabbing the nipples and pulling hard. Blake screamed something unintelligible into the smith's mouth, only to moan when the blonde squeezed roughly.

Then Yang pulled away, leaving Blake dazed, confused, and very close to climax. So very close, yet she was being denied. She whimpered at the blonde, silently bucking her hips to express her need.

The smith didn't respond to her, instead looking thoughtful, though the image was ruined somewhat by the lust that still sparkled in her eyes.

"You didn't come from that…" she said slowly, as if calculating something. "I guess I need to pull out the bigger guns."

Without another word, the blonde turned on her heel and left Blake alone, nailed the the wall, and desperately wishing she was being nailed by something else.

She didn't have to wait long for the blonde to return. With delight, Blake noticed her buttocks were no longer covered by her shorts. Then her eyes found the… instrument in the smith's hand.

It looked like a shortsword, except completely rounded. There was a crossguard around a quarter-yard down its length, before it extended another third of a yard or so. Blake couldn't fathom its use, until the smith shoved the quarter-yard side into her soaking slit and turned to completely face Blake.

_Now_ she understood what was about to happen, and a groan came out of her lips as her thighs rubbed together in anticipation. Her panties were long past being dry, so the wave of moisture that hit her core would likely go unnoticed.

The smith walked over slowly, giving Yang a fine look at her body but for her chest, which was still in its wrappings. One of Yang's hands grabbed at her dripping underwear, ripping them off and she moved in closer.

Blake could feel the phallus against her core, and her hips bucked, hoping it would find entry. But Yang had positioned just so so that Blake would be denied.

The blonde went back to her game of kissing and teasing, though this time she allowed Blake to rub herself against the phallus. Soon, Blake found her breath coming in short gasps as the smith worked veritable magic in her body, forcing many a pleasured sound out of Blake.

Without warning, one hand pinched a nipple with bruising force, while at the same time Yang's mouth went to Blake's throat and bit down, and a hand positioned the phallus for Yang to push into Blake. The thief screamed Yang's name as she was driven over the edge, the tidal wave of sensations, combined with the domination, enough to send her flying into oblivion.

But she was given no respite, for as soon as she screamed for Yang, the woman started moving… fast. The blonde pumped in and out of Blake with incredible force, smashing their hips together as the phallus dug inside them both.

Blake was beyond coherent words as her legs wrapped around the smith's hips to pull her closer. Her head leant back against the wall as Yang pounded her, the only sounds the thief able to make being sensual moans and needy whimpers.

The blonde was marking her territory on the cat's neck, biting and sucking enough to ensure that even a week from now the woman would still have marks. Desperately, Blake strained against her binding, trying to throw her arms around the blonde.

Having never come down from her first orgasm, Blake hit her second when a particularly hard thrust slammed both of them against the wall, the crossguard of the phallus smashing against her clitoris.

When Blake came a third time, she noticed the blonde weaken her thrusts somewhat, a look of ecstasy written across her face. But that was all Blake remembered as the smith pounded her for all she was worth, in some little hut out in the middle of nowhere.

By the time she climaxed five times, Blake's voice was too raspy to continue making sound, though occasionally she would moan her continued pleasure.

By the time Yang climaxed a second time, Blake's eyes rolled back in her head as she hit her own seventh, out for the count.

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><p>When Blake awoke, it was in a bed she didn't remember ever getting in to, wrapped up in arms that could probably throttle the life from a giant. They were not muscular in the traditional sense, but they were sinewy and powerful.<p>

Then the ache between her legs reminded Blake of what a woman with powerful arms had done to her for the better portion of the day before.

A wave of heat rushed through her body, half of it lighting her face up in a brilliant blush while the other half settled far lower as it reminded her brain of how thoroughly she had been enjoying the previous day.

Her ears twitched as they registered a rustling from behind her, most likely the sound of her bed mate awakening. The arms around her stomach pulled to closer, and she felt a breath whisper against her ear.

"Mornin', kitten," a husky voice said from behind her. "Enjoy yourself yesterday?"

That was a stupid, rhetorical question. Of course she had. Why else would she probably not be able to walk today, have a sore throat, and have the firm belief that she was either paid way too little, or way too much?

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><p><strong>So. That was a thing. <strong>

**...**

**I should really filter what I write sometimes.**


	2. Silver

**This one contains mentions of explicit content, but is not graphic.**

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><p>Blake peered over her mug at the newcomer. She wasn't from this area, that was for sure; no one from this village wore yellow. Not as a social faux pas or by rule, but yellow dyes were expensive, and people here wouldn't be able to afford it. The woman who had entered the tavern didn't seem to have that problem, herself wearing a long sleeved yellow shirt, complete with long black pants. She looked like a walking flower.<p>

The woman, who by now had the attention of the entire tavern, sidled up the to bar, taking a seat, right next to Blake. Long blonde locks went down to her middle back, although thankfully they didn't come anywhere close to Blake's nose.

"Vodka, clear, no ice, your strongest," she ordered, her soprano being the only noise in the entire tavern. Even the sounds of drinking had stopped. The order surprised Blake; only heavy drinkers ordered vodka, and she had never heard it asked for "clear" before.

The bartender just nodded, pretending to not give the newcomer any notice, and turned to make it. For her part, Blake turned back to her mug, making a gesture with her hand to the rest of the bar to ignore the stranger. She would deal with it.

Surreptitiously, Blake watched the woman over her ale. She didn't seem particularly remarkable, besides the flamboyant outfit. Perhaps a good bit more muscular than most women of the village, and certainly better endowed - her chest strained the shirt it was in.

"Here you are," the bartender said a minute later, presenting her with a glass. Inside was a perfectly clear liquid, no ice, and it barely even sloshed inside the glass tumbler. The woman gave it a critical look before accepting it from the bartender.

As she rose her hand to take the tumbler, her sleeve feel back just enough for Blake to see a golden bracelet on her wrist. It was not the mark of wealth that had her catching her breath, but rather what was on it. A silver cross.

_Vampire hunter_! Blake had to get out of here immediately, to warn her mistress. While the stranger looked average, silver crosses were the sure sign of professional vampire hunters.

By agreement when her mistress had built her castle here, around half a century ago, a series of treaties were formed. The sick or dying members of the village would be sent to her, to sate her thirst, and in exchange, Weiss would not feed on the normal people. Of course, there were more benefits for each side.

When the last war broke out some twenty years ago, part of the invading army had come to the valley to raid the village. They were never seen again. And of course, the villagers would not make public the location of her mistress, although by agreement they were under no obligation to help her either.

Which is what lead to Blake hastily chugging down the remainder of her ale, before throwing some money on the bar and turning it leave, quickly thanking the bartender.

She barely made it two steps before her trailing hand was caught by a calloused but still soft one. Turning to see her captor, she found the stranger looking at her with bright lavender eyes. She couldn't break that grip, even with the training faunus servants received from their vampire masters, had she tried.

"Going so soon?" the woman asked, her voice barely a whisper. At the same time as the voice found its way into Blake's ears, her sensitive nose picked up on a scent she hadn't smelled since before she left with Weiss. Her animal instincts knew what it was, and her body reacted in kind. It was mating season.

"Pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be leaving alone," the stranger went on, "and I'm new here." The stranger smiled, looking almost feral. "Why not show me the town?"

Blake's higher brain functions were swiftly shutting down under that scent. However, she was able to form a logical argument for why accompanying the stranger was a good idea. _Perhaps if I stay with her all day then she won't find Weiss at her weakest_… Yes, that was a good idea.

She nodded, smiling at the blonde. "Of course," she said, "follow me."

Just before leaving the tavern, the stranger pulled her back a step, leaning into her ear. "And I'll reward you by giving you the best time of your life." Blake rubbed her thighs together in anticipation.

What followed was a rather short introduction to the town, as Blake had a destination in mind, and was not of the opinion that it should be sidetracked. Whatever the stranger was, she smelled incredible, and Blake wanted a taste as well.

When they arrived at the inn, the blonde didn't even bat an eye as Blake pulled her inside. Throwing some coins to the innkeeper, Blake received a key in return - there was only one room she ever stayed in.

She practically dragged the stranger up the stairs, almost throwing her into the room. Once the door was locked behind them, Blake shoved the woman into a wall, lips finding hers with fervor. All that followed was a pleasure filled haze.

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><p><em>She didn't lie<em>, Blake thought as she awoke, _that was the best sex I've ever had_. Following those thoughts were a series of revelations, none of them pleasant for the faunus. Firstly, the stranger was missing, not even a scrap of the clothing Blake remembered ripping off remaining on the floor.

Secondly, she was tied down to the bed, unable to move. Each of her arms were tied to a different post, as were her legs, and the stranger had even been as thorough as to tie down her body so she couldn't thrash out of her bindings. Above one of the ropes was a sign that read: "_Sorry kitty_."

And thirdly, it was day time. Blake had understood the woman was amazing but she didn't think she would be so exhausted as to sleep through the entire night. That was when the same smell she had smelled before the blonde seduced her wafted into her nose again, instantly turning on her. But this time she saw the cause, a vial open on the table next to the bed. The stranger must have used it to ensure Blake wouldn't interfere.

Between cursing herself over her gullibility and congratulating the inventiveness of the blonde - a feature she learned all about the night before - she realized that the smell was working again, stopping her from thinking properly. This time, she knew the ploy, and could counter it.

"Ren!" she called down to the innkeeper. "Help me! Ren!" Running footsteps signaled that at least someone had heard her call. The knob shook, then someone pounded on the door.

"It's locked!" she heard the innkeeper's deep baritone call out.

"Break it down!" Blake responded. "My mistress will pay for the damages!"

It seemed that Ren was in a trusting mood, as no sooner had she assured reparations than the door smashed! inward, although Blake was far enough away to avoid any splinters.

"What's all this ab…" Ren trailed off, his eyes finding Blake on the bed. Suddenly, Blake remembered she was completely naked, courtesy of the night before. "... about…?" Ren finished lamely.

Despite the red in her cheeks, Blake decided this was not the time for embarrassment. "The woman is a vampire hunter!" she cried. "I have to warn my mistress!" Ren just nodded dumbly. "Don't just stand there, untie me!"

Ren shook his head a little, reminding the faunus of her nemesis: dogs. But unlike a dog, Ren helpfully produced a knife, slicing through her bindings. The moment she was free, Blake put on the scraps of clothing she had left and dashed out of the inn.

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><p>It was strange for her servant to not return to the castle at night, but not unheard of. That was why Weiss hadn't gone out looking for the faunus come nightfall. However, when morning came back around, the issue became more pressing. Unless the faunus returned on her own, Weiss would not be able to venture out until the sun had set again.<p>

Right now she was severely missing the faunus' presence as a garishly clad woman walked through her castle doors. Barged through was a more apt term, as the doors were supposed to be locked. Weiss couldn't be sure of that when they flew open with enough force to strain the hinges.

"May I help you?" Weiss asked coolly from her throne. This was certainly not a villager, and she had little patience for random wanderers hoping for an easy raid for riches.

"Indeed, you may," the stranger replied. Her tone was much too calm to be any bandit or pillager. Weiss' eyes widened at it, but nearly burst out of their sockets when the stranger ripped her yellow shirt off. Underneath it were white bandages that preserved her modesty, but that wasn't what Weiss cared about.

There was a giant silver cross painted across the stranger's chest. Vampire hunter.

Weiss lept out of her throne, mindful even now that walking into sunlight would most likely mean her death, and engaged the vampire hunter.

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><p>Blake had almost a hundred years of training under her belt, but she was still winded by the time she arrived at the castle. She had no time to breathe as she rested against the doorframe, watching the carnage unfold before her.<p>

Blake's mistress was a pure-blooded vampire, over a century and a half old, and had fought on the front lines of the vampire-werewolf wars. She was faster and stronger than any normal human, and had several abilities that aided her in combat.

The vampire hunter was toying with her. Every time Weiss tried to get close, to claw or slash with her sword, the hunter simply blocked all attacks with one of those gauntlets. It was clear she was no normal human, speed and strength notwithstanding, as her hair was alight.

Weiss was being driven back from her throne towards the entryway where Blake stood. There was nothing the faunus could do but watch in horror as the hunter landed a perfect punch in the center of her mistress' chest, sending her flying towards the sunlight, and certain death.

Blake jumped forward, breaking the vampire's fall with her own body, and more importantly stopping her from reaching the sunlight. Weiss looked to her with groggy eyes. Had she had flowing blood, there would be bruises visible on her face and arms, and at least one of those cuts ought to be bleeding.

The vampire hunter walked forward slowly, clearly in no rush. All parties knew that she would win no matter what trick was pulled.

"Wait!" Blake called, leaping to her feet and putting her body in front of Weiss'. "Why do you have to kill her? She's done nothing wrong!" Blake pleaded.

It was enough to stop the hunter's advance. She cocked her head to the side, as if considering. "Nothing wrong, you say?" the hunter asked. Blake nodded vigorously. "She is a vampire," the hunter said, eyes flickering blood rubies. "She drinks mortal blood."

"No living blood has passed my lips in over a century," Weiss croaked out. It was evident that whatever damage the hunter had dealt with that last hit, it was too much for Weiss to regenerate in a short period of time. She couldn't even lift herself off the ground.

The time the hunter truly paused, as if considering. Then she abruptly took a seat on the hard stone floor, opening her palms and turning them face up. "Explain," she demanded.

Weiss did her best to explain the agreement she had with the villagers, though the hunter looked on skeptically through the entire story. Then, aid came from an unexpected source.

"'Tis true what she were sayin', ma'm," came a tenor voice. The mayor of the village, Ozpin, with Ren and one of the militia captains stood at the doorway. All had weapons drawn, although Ozpin seemed a bit confused as to what side of his was threatening. "Ne'er once 'ave we 'ad a probl'm wit 'er comin' down an' eatin' 'er fill."

"Will you stop me if I kill her?" asked the hunter, voice deadly serious. The thought sent shivers up Blake's spine.

"Aye, some o' us old'r folk 'ould do t'at," Ozpin confirmed. Ren and the captain lowered their weapons menacingly.

The hunter bounded to her feet, giving Weiss a glare cold as death. "Your life is spared," she informed the vampire, "but I need compensation." She turned to the villagers, explaining, "It is a law that a vampire may trade something of equal value for their life. Have you anything of equal value?"

"I offer myself," Blake piped in suddenly, earning an incredulous look from the villagers and Weiss.

"But I need you!" exclaimed Weiss. "You've been at my side for over half a century!"

Blake nodded, conceding the point, but was relentless. "Mistress, it is the only way!" she pleaded.

The hunter nodded, drawing attention back to her. "I accept this offer, your servant for your life." Seeing Weiss' shocked expression, she chuckled. "I will not kill her, do not worry." The vampire visibly relaxed. "Besides, I could use a…" she shot Blake a lecherous look, "..._companion_."

"I could stay in the castle with you," offered the militia captain. Ruby Rose set her weapon down, walking over to Weiss, giving her a lift to her feet. "Can't be too boring around here."

"Your arrangements are your own," the hunter said formally to Weiss. "Do you accept this trade?"

Weiss nodded, giving Blake an imploring expression. Sensing her mistress' need, Blake rushed over to her side to be engulfed in a massively powerful hug. Had she not been a faunus, it would have broken some bones. Surprisingly, the hunter did not interrupt them, allowing Weiss to say goodbye to her longtime servant. Her friend.

With tears in her eyes, Blake finally broke free of the embrace of her mistress. Turning her back, she marched over to her new owner, a vampire hunter whose name she didn't even know.

"Now then kitty," the hunter said, walking towards the door, into the wild, "shall we?"


End file.
